Enfants Perdu
by RiptideZ
Summary: Day-Night, an American VR Military Simulator launched before the end of the SAO Crisis, has come under controversy after a series of unfortunate incidents leaving players in hospitals. Asuna and Kazuto have long since escaped SAO and have begun to move past their experiences within Aincrad. At the request of Seijirou it seems Kirito's exile from VRMMOs has come to an end. SYOC.
1. Demons

**Welcome to my first major Sword Art Online story, referred to as "Enfants Perdu." The term Enfants Perdu, or "enfants perdus" is a French plural noun referring to "a soldier assigned to a dangerous post."**

**Enfants Perdu is an alternate universe story that takes place a few months after the Sword Art Online Arc but ignores most if not all fiction of the events following and some during. The Fairy Dance Arc could have been a good arc in the series but turned out to be much of a monstrosity, ALO will be mentioned and appear in Enfants Perdu in some form or another but the events that occurred are considered irrelevant in this storyline. Our story focuses on the suspicious Military/Survival Simulator sponsored by the United States Military. This is a world of guns and monsters. This isn't Gun Gale Online however, this is about realism. GGO may share certain elements but the two are different entities. This is the story of Day Night, a world of death and life just like the transition of daytime and nighttime. **

**A big thanks to my counterpart and acquaintance, ****Mr. California**** for coming up with this title. Self-proclaimed "Gun Nut of SAO," he's as good of a military junkie you can find in this fanon. His story, "GGO: Casualties of War," while short is probably one of the best military fiction stories in this Fanon. Even with its one chapter, it's a highly suggested read.**

**Another mention to ****Shinobi no Ryu, Artie Ross, and ThisIsGreatestUsername**** for providing their suggestions, criticisms, and expertise. Each of them have great SAO Fanfics that should not be passed up. "Neon Rain, Global Warfare Online, and a Perception of Reality."**

**And finally the biggest appreciations to the one and only, ****Agent 94**** for dealing with my constant nagging of questions, ideas, and responses to his strict but stellar critiques which have helped make this story much better. He's got an awesome story called "Aincrad Reborn" which brings a lot of fixes to the vanilla SAO storyline while exploring in greater depth into the lore and mechanics of Aincrad. Without his help, this story would not exist at all. Literally, he was the one that helped me design the premise and forced me to actually push this idea forward after the failure of my first SAO fic.**

**Please Read and Review, I really could use the feedback. I also have several more science fiction and military fiction stories on my author page including stories from Halo, Battlefield, Mass Effect and more.**

**I'm still unsure of the idea of OCs but I've allowed them at the support of Artie and Username. Please don't bring in any Mary Sues, do research and understand that I'm looking for realism when I ask for new characters. I'll reply if anyone leaves a submission.**

**Reviews are much appreciated, in depth ones will have my endless gratitude. If there is anything anyone wants to know about my current decisions on this story, please PM or leave a review.**

**I've currently (July 17, 2015) removed the second Enfants Perdu chapter due to a major rewrite and I've begun working on the third chapter so I don't know when it will be back up but continued support is always supported. Thanks for all the help guys, here is the rewritten version of Chapter 1, now known as Demons.**

**…**

_**O.C. SPREADSHEET**_

_Full Name (include Titles):__The Character's Full name (Be Realistic) must meet Cultural Norms and include all identifiable extensions (EX. Jr., Sr., III, IV, Dr., Military Rank, etc.)_

_Username/Player Name:__ Player's Username (Be Realistic). When making the Username, please make sure it's not already in use and it the name pertains to the character's personality and life. You may also want to point out how they would be address based on this name, in game. (EX. Anac0ndaSilver)_

_Real World Location:__ Where this player was born and where they take up residency. This must be a real location that someone can live in and have access to middle class living standards. I should be able to find this location on Google Earth. Please don't give me an address, just a general area. (EX. Fort Worth-Dallas Area, Texas, Continental United States of America)_

_Occupation:__What does your character do in real life? Do they have a job, are they a student? What is their major? Did this person ever go to College? (EX. Professor of Economics at Yale University)_

_Combat Behavior:__ How does this character prefer to engage people? Do they act conservatively and stick to one spot? Do they only hunt at night? Are they brutish, or are they quick and lithe? Do they move around a lot or stay still for hours on end? (EX. Player X prefers to not engage groups and is more focused on self-preservation, she will not kill unless forced into a conflict. She's a hunter and scavenger, preferring to stay out of human conflict and simply hunt and survive in its simplest terms.)_

_Equipment &amp; Weaponry:__ What type of weapon does your character prefer? (Be Realistic, no huge revolvers for smaller individuals just because they look cool.) (Don't give me a weapon, tell me a type of weapon: the weapon is by my consideration) What does your character use in game? (EX. Assault Rifle, Semi-Auto Rifle, Lever-Action Rifle, Personal Defense Weapon, Squad Automatic Weapon, Battle Rifle) (EX. Walkie-Talkie, Old Paper Maps, Night Vision Goggles, etc.)_

_Real World Experience:__Does your character have skills in Real Life that may translate over to the VR World? (Be Realistic) If they are capable of using the skill in a real life application or in the event that society collapses, it's probably a useful ability. Skills are not unique or specific to one individual, these are learned traits from real life, not MMO mechanics. (EX. Player knows how to use a parachute, Player is a marathon runner, Player knows parkour, Player took fencing classes as a child, Player knows how to drive a boat, etc.)_

_Faction/Guild:__Please create a Guild group and several member usernames if the character is a part of a player faction? What group or people does your player affiliate with? What group are they a part of? Maybe they are loners? Maybe they are a bandit group? Maybe they enjoy helping others? The only way to be a part of a Military Faction, groups made from actual Veterans or Enlisted Soldiers from National Militaries is for your character to be a member of said Armed Forces. If it's a military organization, it has to be an organization operating in the Eastern Hemisphere including the Pacific and Indian Ocean such as United States of America, Australia, New Zealand, South Korea, Thailand, Philippines, Japan, China, Russia, etc. (EX. "Snake's Crew," bandit/raider group, members include "WLDstallion, LORDslythR, Voldemort, Ex0rcist") (EX. "United States Armed Forces," Military Faction, members include "SGTbrown, Blue Dogma, LeatherNeckedBULL, Doc N Town")_

_Video Game Preferences:__What type of games does your character play? Or is this their only game? This shows what type of gamer your player generally is. (EX. Racing, RTS, Sandbox, Simulator, FPS, 3PS, Turn-based Strategy, Horror, Survival, Story Telling Games, Platformers, etc.)_

_Personality/Backstory:__Who is your character? What is their personality? Why do they act like they do? What is their history and life like? How is their family and friends tied to who they are? This area is pretty straight forward, everything however must be realistic. And a huge note: No characters will be allowed in as a former player of Sword Art Online unless they're a Japanese citizen or have been naturalized into Japanese culture for quite some time, no foreigners._

_In-Game Behavior:__ How does your character behave under pressure? What type of behavior would they often do in a post-apocalyptic, military/survival simulator? Are they killers? Scavengers? Survivors just trying to make out a living in a dangerous, new world? How do they act around other characters in game? Do they kill on sight? Do they help newer and less prepared individuals, do they avoid others or enjoy their company? This is an extension of the personality point, why does your character want to play Day Night, what is their motivation?_

_Physical Description:__ In Day Night, while the player model's body is customizable, the physical structure, shape, and bodily strength and adaptability are copied from the real world, the same as Sword Art Online was when players were switched to realistic avatar clones of their real bodies. What does your character look like in real life and in the game?_

_"Why should I use your Character in this Fiction?"__**This is arguably the most important part of the spreadsheet. Why should I use your character? What is so special about them? Are they realistic? Is there a good reason why I should be interested? This section will have a significant part in deciding whether I want your character in my story. If your other factors above are superb however, I will gloss over this without a second thought. However, if I don't like your character, it may be the only saving grace for getting your character in? I am a supporter of realistic and mature story plot lines so I don't want trolls and shallow characters in my service. I will accept comedic and joker characters if they can still remain realistic and are likable enough that they don't seem out of place. Your character needs to fit into the world, don't make something outrageous like a 5 year old dressed in pink surviving on her own and killing American Special Forces like they are baby dolls. Keep it clean people. For OCs already chosen I'll leave a list at the bottom of Chapter 1. Thanks for the continued support.**_

**…**

_Welcome to RiptideZ's "__Enfants Perdu__," a non-profit fan-produced fiction product under the ownership of set penname: RiptideZ._

_**DISCLAIMER:**_

_All copyrighted items mentioned or used in this work belongs to their rightful owners of Reki Kawahara, Aniplex USA, and other brands mentioned below or later under terms of Fair Use. The author only owns their own creations. This author is an adamant supporter of Constructive Criticism, please read and review. If anything needs modification with the writing piece below, please contact RiptideZ through the Review section, or Instant Messaging."_

**…**

_Chapter 1: Demons_

_Words: 7717_

_Franchise: Sword Art Online_

**…**

**["Demons"]**

**[Feburary 2025]**

**…**

It was finally over, the world of Sword Art Online defeated, freedom had come finally for the human inhabitants of Aincrad.

Asuna stood upon the crystal clear floor of the SAO skybox, the clouds flew overhead almost peaceful as a floating castle in the sky, a hundred floors tall, violently shook itself to pieces.

The only feeling the girl could manage was saddened detachment, as if a piece of her soul had been lost. She wasn't sorry to see the game defeated, she wasn't sad that this world was coming to an end. It was the memories of this place that brought a feeling of loss, as if a new void had forced its way into her heart.

The memories of this place, she could admit openly, were some of the happiest of her short life. She had begun a prisoner of this great castle, but in the end she had come to love it for what it gave her. Her relaxed hands rested comfortable in the grasp of her in-game husband, Kirito; as a pair, they stared off into the expanse of the collapsing structure of the metallic prison. The two still retained their clothes and equipment from their journey, black and white, standing beside each other in the very end.

The object was shaped originally in a kind of gourd or pear shape, bronze in color and floating above the Earth. The only thing that kept it anchored to the Earth below had been a series of large tree-like roots erupting from the ground far below. Asuna had remembered seeing what appeared to be a vast land of fields, forests, lakes, and mountains below when she had gone out to the edge of the castle to watch the mass suicides so long ago. Now from an even higher position than before, the ground had seem to disappear from below Aincrad, replaced by an empty, white void. Aincrad slowly shook itself apart and the damage was tremendous. Like rock and rubble, little by little the floors emptied from the bottom up. Currently they were approaching the 22nd floor, her little home at the lake front.

It took her eyes a little searching but she found the medium-sized wooden cabin at the edge of the woods on the 22nd floor. A once beautiful paradise and sanctuary turned to rubble as it slowly broke apart with the ground it stood upon and fell down into the nether of Aincrad.

Below the collapsing gourd, a slowly swirling vortex swallowed the floating building like a large vacuum cleaner.

She let out a surprised sigh grabbing Kirito's attention toward the same location.

Asuna was unsure what to feel, so many memories of that small house. Of Kirito, of Yui. Of her family within this World of Death. To see all it go and be gone in an instant, all she could do was be shocked. In her peripheral vision, Kirito showed no signs of an automatic emotional response: only shock carried on as if something was trying to process the actual events transpiring.

The two shared this emotion: for two whole years they had been trapped in a virtual reality that had become to them a near-substitute to real life, and abruptly, it came to the end. Ironically their loss of normalcy was brought by their own hands by killing its creator in armed conflict.

A realization had also begun to well up within the teenage girl. Hadn't they died, winning against Kayaba? Did that mean they two would disappear with this world once it was deleted? How were they even still alive right now?

No one had seen how the people died in the Death Game, maybe the glass plain they stood upon, was an analogy for purgatory. A final stop before the final passing into the beyond. She could not guess, however; any thought on the possibility of eternal death after everything she had been through was too much. She quickly broke her focus on the house and the memories and the ideas she had been contemplating in order to stop the breaming tears.

Asuna attempted to cut off the feeling of an expanding energy within her to breakdown once again after sacrificing herself to save her lover and only for him to return to her presence even for how short a time.

The floating castle of Aincrad continued to degrade under their watch. The hurricane eye below it sucked away the material and information to who knows where. It was as if the vortex were a digital black hole.

"A stunning view isn't it?" A voice said grabbing the couple's attention from the dying world below.

The couple's heads turned to their right passing the brilliant Aincrad star to look toward the outspoken individual. He wore a white trench coat similar to that of a scientist and tan slacks. Asuna could not recognize his face as she realized this person was from the real world, or at least she assumed he was.

Asuna noted that he looked familiar however as Kirito spoke her suspicions: "Akihiko Kayaba?"

The man, once known as Heathcliff and before as Kayaba, the creator of the Nerve Gear and the death game of Sword Art Online, continued to look down upon his dying creation. There was a brief silence as if to confirm his identity. Kayaba spoke with disinterest, "At Argus headquarters, the SAO mainframe is in a room, 5 floors below street level; and right now it is deleting all the data from its drives. In about 10 minutes, everything in this world will disappear forever."

Asuna did not realize it until she spoke, but she asked, "And what about all the players? What happens to them?"

"You don't have to worry about them."

Kayaba maneuvered his left hand in a familiar motion, activating his game menu from thin air with a quick and unique electronic chime.

"The six thousand one hundred, forty-seven players who have survived this game up till now were logged out a few seconds ago."

The last three human beings watching above the destruction were now the last true-sentient beings left in this world.

"And what about the four thousand people who died? What about them?" The Beater-in-black asked the Game Master. Everyone knew the answer already, but Kayaba answered the question anyway. Almost without emotion as if the death of these players were simply another statistic, another number to gloss over in the back of his mind. In a way, it was. Yet still there was a feeling of emptiness in his voice.

"They'll never return. In any world, real or virtual, once you are dead, you're gone."

Asuna in her mind echoed the statement, the term, forever, quickly coming to mind.

"Why? What's the point? Why did you do this?" Kirito's emotions began to build to a head, a sniffled rage was beginning to build within the young man.

"That's a good question… it's been so long, I've forgotten the reason."

Asuna didn't dare speak as the two prodigies stood parallel from each other contemplating each other's motives. She felt that if she said another word, she would most certainly break down, no matter how emotionally drained the girl had become from only moments before.

"Isn't that strange?" Kayaba looked up.

Several large dragons, flew even farther above, out of reach of the deletion algorithm. Their extinction was only temporary, as Kayaba said, very soon everything in this world would be deleted.

"Before I developed a system for the Full Dive environment, I dreamed of this; a castle and a world, not governed by Earthly laws and restrictions. I had poured my life into making that dream, a reality."

The Game Master paused as he looked on into the expanse, the two sets of teenage eyes looked upon him unrelenting. He looked back at the two.

"I created this world, and I got to see something that surpassed anything that I could have imagined for it." Kayaba spoke in reference to something Asuna remained unknowing of, however, she let the statement pass without consideration. Kayaba turned and looked back down toward his dying dream.

"My steel castle, floating in the sky, I don't remember how old I was when I became obsessed with it." He spoke, and suddenly he was reflecting on his past to his two-person audience.

"I wanted to leave the Earth, to fly to that castle, I wanted that more than anything else. For as long as I can remember."

He continued to gaze on, this time toward the sun.

"You know what, Kirito? I want to believe it is still out there, that somewhere in some other world, my castle is still standing. Taller than ever."

"Yeah, maybe it still is." Kirito agreed, his face contorting into a frown as he realized his own longing for Aincrad, no matter how much pain and suffering it brought him.

Asuna nodded along, feeling the same as her two male counterparts.

"Before I forget, congratulations on clearing the game. Kirito. Asuna." He said and turned to the two players standing before him, the last survivors left in this game.

Asuna thought this would be the goodbye. She considered asking the man a question on their own mortality. Were they going to return to reality or would they be lost with this world as well?

"Kirito, Asuna. I leave you with my final token for completing my game. As this world collapses, you will be returned, back to reality. You will wake up tired and confused at the hospital. This will be my final gift to you two, if you have any love left for this world."

"What are you talking about?" Asuna asked.

Akihiko Kayaba outstretched his right hand toward the couple and using the menu in his right, he pressed a few administrative keys and activated whatever item he was looking for. A theatrical display appeared in a brilliance of golden light, like a sun in his palm. Then the light dimmed revealing an egg-shaped holographic display. It was bathed in golden light with yellow and purple patterns dancing randomly around within.

"The beginning of a new world. I call it the Seed."

"…" Kirito let out a throaty sound suggesting Kayaba to continue.

"Once it buds, you'll understand what it is. I'll leave what to do with it up to you two. You can delete it and completely forget about it. However, if you have any feelings left for that world besides hatred…"

"You didn't say what the Seed is." Asuna stated looking up at the man curiously and accusative.

He just nodded to himself and closed his eyes as if he just told them something or had come to a difficult decision.

"Well then, I should probably get going now. This world will be ending soon."

He turned away from the black and white clad warriors and started to walk. He waved his hand behind him as he went.

Some smoke erupted from his body obscuring him and as soon as it cleared, he was gone.

The two stared at the place the mastermind of this world had last stood, now lost to his final exit. Kirito suddenly spoke, "Asuna, I'm sorry."

The said girl turned to him, curious of what his next words would be.

"I died down there fighting Heathcliff, I won't be returning with you."

She was suddenly stricken scared. What was her partner talking about?

"Kirito-kun, don't be silly he just said that we would be logging out soon…"

"Goodbye Asuna, live a fulfilling life." Kirito said and then he was also gone with a puff of smoke. Her hand dropped to her side.

"No…Kirito, what…what is going on?"

She didn't get to grab at his receding form of smoke as the world around her phased out of existence to be replaced with a more earthly stage, a classroom. The girl was no longer in Aincrad anymore, no longer in Sword Art Online. The classroom she was currently inhabiting was a mirror image of her old classroom, that of the school day before she had entered the Death Game. This was no longer Sword Art Online, she was in the real world, at her old all-girl private institution in Tokyo.

She sat in her seat, the first row in front of the teacher's desk, toward the windows on the left as she always had two years ago, the door was opposite of her on the other side of the classroom. There were twenty seven desks set up in the class, one for the teacher who was nowhere to be seen, the other twenty six desks were occupied by Asuna's classmates all dressed up for another school day. The students' uniforms were simply that, cute and innocent. She herself was still wearing her white combat attire from Aincrad. Her mind normally would have recognized that something was wrong but at this moment it simply told her it was normal.

Asuna turned to look out the window, the skyline of Tokyo was irregular in comparison to her familiar classroom however; the sky was painted in a similar scheme as the skybox of Aincrad.

She started thinking of Kirigaya Kazuto as she realized that he had told her to "live a fulfilling life." The shuffling of shoes and desks broke her from her trance as all the other young girls of the institution made their way to the front of the class. Following her classmates up to the board, the electronic display revealed the college entrance exam results that would decide what colleges the girls would go to in the future. Asuna immediately went to the top, expecting her name at the top per usual, after all, she was almost always at the top of her grade; either that, or within the top had aced all the practice exams before the true exam; this should have been a breeze. Now however, she could not find her name. She went down the list – name after name after name. No Yuuki Asuna. She wasn't even in the top 100, she wasn't even ranked.

Voices started to murmur around her just out of hearing, she turned around to get an idea of who was talking, momentarily forgetting her dismal performance.

The girls around her were grinning gleefully and pointing at her as they whispered. The girls, her classmates, she had studies with for years were now laughing at her, jeering at her. A dangerous gleam glowed in Asuna's eye, she quickly went for her rapier at her waist. She would not kill, but she would certainly intimidate. A noticeable absence was felt as she reached down looking for the long and familiar cylindrical pole and handguard of her prized weapon.

She looked down, she was wearing her old school uniform: a major blue suit over her dress shirt, skirt, and shorts. The absent combat attire was replaced by red ribbon tie and her white socks and dress shoes. No longer did she wield a set of dangerous weapons of her warrior inventory, she had only her brown school bag to protect her. All the predatory confidence that had been building up within was sapped in seconds. The girls continued to jeer, their voices now louder calling her names.

"Otaku! Otaku!"

She remembered telling her classmates about how stupid video games were, how they had no value. The shame of being a hypocrite and finding love in something she had originally dismissed, a cloud of doubt materialized over her mind revealing her worst nightmares coming true.

She had been a hypocrite, calling video games stupid; "Gaming is wasting life!" The voice of one of the younger girls who had looked up to Asuna, said mockingly. "Onee-sama used to say that games were a waste! Turns out she was a gamer! What a joke!?"

She was a failure. Images of Asuna's mother, her family looking down upon her sleeping form swarmed in disappointment. Their grim faces. The classmates making fun of her. It was a repeat of the nightmares she would have almost every night during the sleeping periods she experienced in the first days of SAO Crisis.

She backed away from all the failure she had achieved and became cornered in a side of the classroom. Her family and classmates looking down upon her with disappointment and cruel joy. Asuna wanted to back into a corner and hide herself in the shadows. The girl wanted away from this nightmare. These monsters, these demons. Society's pressures and expectations came crashing down upon the female warrior, crushing her lungs and leaving her breathless. She was being crushed.

This time there was no Kirigaya Kazuto to back her up, no Guild to call upon, no strength or pride in herself that could be mustered like she had within the Death Game. Here she was powerless, nothing could be done against waves of this nightmare.

The voices grew distant however as the faces of her oppressors distorted into smoke and then into fog and a constant veil of rain. The sounds of buckets spraying down upon herself sent a shiver up Asuna's spine, her umbrella absent and nowhere to be seen. She wasn't in her classroom any longer, she was outside, in a place filled with people in black attire among a large sequence of tombstones. A graveyard, one full of fresh grave sites. Asuna stood in the front row of a funeral procession upon this rainy day. The group was numbered in the dozens and everyone remained in silence, it seemed almost everyone went to forgo their umbrellas, only two or three could be seen in the endless mass of individuals.

Looking down, Asuna realized her attire had changed again. She was dressed in a black T-shirt, maybe Kazuto's even. She wore a black skirt and tights as the company stood in mourning. The clothes that Asuna wore were quick to remind her of Kazuto, of the boy that had helped her and the one she had come to love. Her own attire was ironically a testimony to that boy as Kazuto, unlike Asuna, wore dark clothes almost the entire game only donning a silver-like white during his time with the Knights of Blood Oath, Asuna in retrospect would commonly wear bright colors: red, white, cyan, etc.

Asuna looked for her boyfriend's face in the crowd but did not find him. Kazuto was missing, instead the young teenage girl saw the solemn faces of her friends and guild mates. Agil, Klein, Lisbeth, some members from the old guild. She kept searching desperately until her eyes caught upon the tombstone everyone loosely surrounded. As clear as blood, the engraving shocked her.

Kirigaya Kazuto.

Imprinted in bold engraving in both English and Japanese dialect was his name upon the smooth concrete slab. Numbers noting birth and death dates were shown followed by a QR code that would take any digital readers to a summary of the deceased boy's identity and life that was buried here. Below the markers was a final parting quote but it was too small to make out.

Kirito was dead. Dead.

She was alone in this world after all. In the back of her mind however, she was sure he was still alive, how could he be dead if she had made it out?

Her mind scrambled to find an answer and as the rain fell, the world collapsed around her oozing like a melting oil painting. Colors distorted, people blended out of view, the world disappeared into an inky black. There was nothing.

A beeping began to fill her ears and the sensation of drowning in this blackening void started to take hold. She fought screaming and yelling until she opened her eyes to find the darkness gone.

This was Hell, her demons had her at their whims. This darkness was Hell.

**…**

Asuna woke with a sudden snap. Her eyes were wide and staring at her darken ceilings, her breathing was irregular and her mind was still shell-shocked. She groggily awoke from her daze.

It had all been a dream, it seemed.

Asuna stood up and looked around her room. It hadn't changed much since she got back from the hospital about 4 months ago. Just like all the other players in SAO, the girl had woken up in the hospital to sounds of moving equipment, scrambling nurses, and the accelerated beeps of her heart monitor as her breathing spiked and she returned to reality. SAO was over and the return to reality had begun. Kirito or Kirigaya Kazuto as he was known in the real world, had been staying in the Tokyo General while Asuna had been moved to another on the other side of town closer to her family's Tokyo Estate.

For three weeks, Asuna had not been allowed to leave the hospital. She got to see her family yet she could not get in touch with any of her friends from SAO; it had been a difficult first month not being able to contact Kirito or Lisbeth. Then there were the other survivors from her ward; because the people were not familiar with Yuuki Asuna, but The Flash. She had been quick to introduce herself as Yuuki, using her family name as her first. It kept the people off her and allowed her some privacy.

During the three weeks, the staff would perform physical and mental tests and she would be tasked with reclaiming her ability to walk and her previous strength. Originally she had looked like sickly child in famine, nothing but bone and pale skin. Then there was her family that had quickly arrived to see her as soon as the news came out that all the Death Game survivors had made it out of the game successfully.

Her father, mother and, dear brother. And Nobuyuki Sugou, a real turd of a human being.

They had all come to visit it her and genially happy to see her awake, Sugou more on the faking side of happiness. Following her first encounter with the family she had Sugou removed from the list of acceptable visitors. He seemed even more pissed off when she first saw him, as if he had been planning something while she had been out, but she did not act on her suspicions. His sickly sweet smile was a cancer to her vision.

Beyond that, life had become more routine. She recovered the majority of her strength and regained her ability to walk within two months but her physical strength remained something of wishful thinking. The physical therapy became the norm, a few members from a special division the Japanese Ministry of Internal Affairs, informally called the VR Crimes Division or SAO Incident Victims Rescue Force came to visit her on occasion. They mostly asked Asuna about what occurred within SAO and what her part in the events within Aincrad was. The joy and happiness and peace of being alive slowly ebbed away with time and old problems began to resurface. Sugou being one of the obvious ones but she had handled him well, she did not see him unless her entire family had come to visit her, otherwise he could not see her.

Since entering the game, her dear mother was more than disappointed in the situation finding that Asuna's new shared fondness of video games with her brother was not healthy. Also, the issue on her education had been brought up a few times between the daughter and mother, the doctors were quick to deny any form of tutors or education at the time due to possible psychological strain that they had not yet accounted for. So for her time spent in the hospital she had been mostly kept stress-free but that had not stopped the recovering teenager from making long night marathons on restudying her old school material that she had accessed from her old cloud storage.

She was an overachiever and a stickler to impress others, this was only in her nature brought up by a life of strict nurturing. She had become determined to retrieve her previous level of educational proficiency; not for her mother, but for herself. Even after all her time spent in SAO and learning to live life a little more for herself, she still found that her need to be a tier higher than her peers had not been relaxed. She had been slightly afraid she would be permanently behind her peers, or even having to face her old classmates in the real world. Lucky for Asuna, she did not have to face her classmates or her own personal demons.

For how long she had known the other girls, she had never taken the time to make any real friends among her age group. In the former warrior's good fortune, the Japanese government had been quick to provide specialized care for the SAO survivors; be it to keep the demographic in an easily observable scenario or if they generally cared for the victims of the Death Game, they provided well.

A legion of doctors, therapists, and educators on the government payroll were assigned to monitor and help the survivors recuperate. Financial aid was provided for college students, lesser-income families, and those who had become vacant in the national workforce who had by this time lost their jobs for good.

A school for the younger generations who had made up the majority of the game's population was opened.

A full service to those who had fallen in SAO and had not return to the land of the living were provided with their own national monument and memorial marked with both the usernames and real names of the dead near the Imperial Palace State Park. These services had been a godsend to the survivors and their families, but to Asuna, it did not matter as much as reaching her goal: reuniting with her friends and especially Kazuto Kirigaya, her online and real life lover.

Asuna had been quick to push through her rehabilitation in an unexpected vigor seen by her parents and the medical staff at the hospital. Her recovery time was faster than anyone in her ward, an astonishing feat of a month and 15 days. Her mother was not happy to hear about the young man who Asuna had met online, but was respectful enough not speak her mind before her own family or the Kirigaya family when the two households finally met. Kazuto had been in a wheelchair when the two had met while Asuna herself had been on crutches, nearly two months after each had started their final rehabilitation programs. Much of the teenager girl's own time had been spent catching up in her education, rehabilitation workouts, daily-to-weekly checkups with the hospital, and seeing a therapist to gauge her mental capacity. Meeting Kazuto in real life had been a dream come true.

Kazuto had made a joke the first time they saw each other in real life. "Look at you, always trying to be first at everything. You even beat me at walking!"

Kazuto had mentioned that he had been visited by a man from the Japanese Ministry of Internal Affairs to discuss the events that occurred in the SAO, Asuna however was not met to discuss the subject in detail. Asuna's own interviewer had visited for a few hours and then left to visit the next patient, from what the often black-clad boy had said, the man, a Kikouka Seijirou, had taken a personal interest in Kazuto and had brought up his relationship to Asuna, his family, his personality, and a spectrum of other personal matters with the boy to be a simple curiosity.

Now however, she and Kazuto were going to the SAO Survival School, the informal name for the new school for underage SAO victims. It has been four months since SAO ended, today was now just another school day.

Asuna quickly drained her mind of reminiscent thoughts and clambered out of her bed, a queen-sized mattress dressed in a scarlet covering; a high quality design exported from somewhere in the European Union. Her desk alarm rang with urgency, much to the annoyance of Asuna who was swift to smash down upon the cancel button.

Today was Tuesday, school was going on as usual. On her desk, a high-definition, pearl-colored holographic monitor took up most of the space. Next to the desk, her old fashioned alarm clock, and a picture Kazuto had scavenged from the files of his Nerve gear Local Memory, it was a picture or more like an in-game still of Asuna and Kazuto standing, facing away from their cabin and the camera toward the Aincrad sky above, standing shoulder to shoulder.

Sadly, the boy she had fallen in love with had yet to crack open the Nerve Gear and get access to their in-game daughter and Artificial Intelligence, Yui. Something about being closed software and incompatible with his current systems. The VR Seed was in the same situation, he had yet to figure out how to access it, but he said he was getting close. Asuna still found it strange that her own VR headset had been confiscated by the government but her boyfriend's had not. Maybe that Seijirou fellow had pulled a couple of strings for him.

Among Asuna's possessions in her room, her walk-in smart closet still remained in the corner. A shelf that was covered in her trophies from school and photographs of various types. One out-of-place item was a miniature cloud server that stored the Local Memory of her now lost Nerve Gear remained on the shelf. Asuna's mother had thrown it out after her daughter had returned from the hospital 3 months after she officially came home from the hospital, though, Kazuto had managed to break the headgear open and remove some of its essential software and stored it in a large file in a storage Cloud.

Asuna pulled a journal from her book shelf and wrote down a quick note marking the time and date and dreams of her sleepless night for her next therapy appointment. She quickly put it back and went to do her daily routine in her washroom. Make-up, personal hygiene, brush teeth, styling her hair, and making sure to shut down all her electronics in her room. Her mother had been nagging her recently about getting an automated room management system since a more economic versions had become available, not that they couldn't afford the more expensive ones. Personally for Asuna, she had a strange preference to being able to do things manually. Maybe her time spent in Aincrad with its overly simplified mechanics had made her enjoy the complexities of life much more.

She swiftly and silently snuck out of her room: she had set her alarm extra early, as she had been doing for the last month to avoid her mother and having a discussion that was due to start a shouting match. She knew that discussing things like her video games, school, Kazuto or anything of that sort would only make their relationship more fragile.

She quietly maneuvered down the stairs, copying her stealthy and cautious movement that she had adopted from SAO with the old Sneaking skill.

The smell and sounds of cooking were heard coming from down stairs. The house keeper, Sada Akiyo, was making breakfast.

Asuna managed down the stairs with grace, the spotless white and tan walls made the house distinctly European in mode. The silent, teenage girl peeked into the dining room and found that her mother was not up yet for work but her brother was. He was reading on his tablet when she entered, sighing reassuringly for herself that her mother was not in. Her brother was always the earliest up usually because he made more out-of-country trips than the rest of the family.

Her stated brother, Yuuki Kouichirou, looked up at her as she entered.

"Morning Asuna-chan, how was your beauty sleep?" He said with a slightly humorous tone.

"It was very good, Nii-san, my sleep was good, but I think you could use a little more for yourself!" Asuna replied back with light banter jabbing at her brother's notable bed head that was skewed to one side.

"Very funny, young sister. Why don't you sit down with me and have some of Sada's breakfast?"

"Sorry, nii-chan, got to get to school early again."

"Avoiding Mother?"

"…Eh…yes, Onii-chan."

"Don't worry about it, I won't say anything. Just make sure you speak to her eventually. Avoiding family is never good, you could be exiled." Kouichirou said trying to be serious but his cheeks had risen to his eyes and with his grimace he looked like a large rabbit or other small mammal.

"Nii-chan, stop being so overdramatic, it isn't good for your face. You look like a rabbit."

"Ah! Asuna-chan you don't have to be so rude to your older brother!" He said mockingly dramatic as he waved his hands in a desperate manner. "…By the way, Asuna, if you need help with homework—"

"Big Bro, don't worry I'm still as good as ever, the homework is a breeze."

"—and a certain boy—"

"Kazuto is nice, he would not do anything to hurt me!" Asuna said defensively, "Plus, you should talk to him more, you two like a lot of the same things."

"Now don't forget you met him on the internet, he is not that trustworthy—"

"Brother just stop it or I'll have to strike you down with my own blade… I'm serious though, you should talk to him. I think you would like him." Asuna stated, pointing out the two boys had only met once during Asuna and Kazuto's reunification a few months earlier.

"Alright, alright. I always forget you're a prodigy in school and on the battlefield, you don't need your older brother anymore to watch your back…" Kouichirou said, now mockingly sober.

"Don't worry brother, I still need a figurehead for Father's corporation before I take over!" Asuna said as a joke with a wink. Asuna truthfully had no interest in the family business, she had yet to decide what she wanted to do, but Kazuto's interest in electronics had piqued her interest.

For now she was planning to enter college for a Business major.

Kouichirou was silent but smiling before doing the mature thing and stuck his tongue at his sister. The two shared a brief staring contest before erupting in mild laughter. Her brother took a sip from his lukewarm coffee and avoided touching his breakfast all together, no matter how appetizing it looked to the not-so-hungry Asuna. That was just her brother being himself, a trait shared among siblings, he often skipped out on breakfast because he always claimed he wasn't hungry. The young businessman of a brother was dressed in a dress shirt and slacks of the gray hue and a plain red tie. He had a mop of brown hair similar to his mother's, but was messy and all over the place, reminding her of Kazuto's. She had the urge to ruffle it as she walked up to the table.

His playful growl and shiver went unnoticed by the young sister.

"Asuna-chan, you're up!" Sada exclaimed as she walked in preparing the dining room for Asuna's parents when they would wake up in half-an-hour.

"Good morning, Sada-san!" Asuna was quick to reply in gratitude.

"Asuna, I prepared your breakfast for you, but if you are in a hurry again, I can pack it for the trip to school?"

"Thank you Sada-san, I would very much like that."

"Okay." She went into the kitchen next door and was quick to pack a breakfast into a lunch bag.

She came back within a few moments and had a breakfast sack ready for the young school girl.

"Take care." Sada quickly said as she got back to putting together the silverware for the elder Yuuki family members.

"You too, Sada-san!"

The young girl made for the hall leaving her brother and the family caretaker behind to their business as they began their own merry conversation that was drowned out in Asuna's echoing footfalls upon the tiled floor of the house atrium. Asuna missed the sight of her brother waving goodbye to her silently from his seat at the dining table. The girl was quick to close the door behind her as her excitement for a new day began to well up inside her. She quickly moved to the entrance of the Yuuki home and was out the door in a flash.

A nice winter breeze drew Asuna's attention to her clothes: a traditional school uniform covered in a light pink, worn jacket.

She ran through the front gate and out upon the sidewalk and began her long trek toward school. She was to ride the subway for most of the journey since it was somewhat close to Kazuto's residential district on another side of town. The trek remained uneventful as she arriving quickly at the SAO Survivor School, Asuna, the former Captain of the Frontline Clearer guild of Knights of Blood Oath, was now going back to high school.

Asuna was exceedingly early again, only a few students had arrived so far but Asuna disregarded the students. She knew she would not see Kazuto or Rika until later as Kazuto, for the love of God, stayed up late at night on his computer. Kirito was still taking late nights working on a supposed project, but Asuna had quickly deduced that he was trying to gain administrative access to the Nerve Gear rig in an attempt to get a hold of Yui and the VR Seed which from what Kazuto had said, "It has not bloomed yet."

The former Captain passed along the observation hallway, a hall of large glass panels on one side of the school adjourned with indoor plants and red fabric arm chairs that brought a more homely feel to the school that looked more like a mental asylum from the outside with its silver-colored roof and baby blue walls. The building's internals were much more inviting than the outside; supposedly it had been an old abandoned high school for one of the Tokyo School Districts that failed to further fund the building's construction because of a major recession two decades ago, the building was completed but was never fully paid off before it was abandoned due to lack of further funds or property buyers. Eventually it was bought by the government and renovated for SAO specifically.

Out the window, she made out the central courtyard and her favorite outdoor picnic area, a pattern of benches under an open pavilion surrounded by trees, bushes and flower pots that have yet to bloom with the coming of spring. Kazuto and Asuna often spent lunch over there but because it was in full view of the school cafeteria, it had little to offer in terms of privacy.

Asuna passed the large two-story cafeteria, crossed over the central foyer, and traveled down the west wing staircase to her first class of the day. National Language. Class was not yet in session due to her early arrival; the teacher's absence was quite apparent. Rather two students were already seated for class but neither of them were paying any attention to their classmate entering from the hall. One was asleep, the other was playing a hand-held gaming device. Asuna moved to the center of the class where she normally sat, and put down her bag under her desk.

Asuna opened her book bag and removed her breakfast and biography novel the class had been reading as of late; the book was written by a Japanese author on the life and experiences of the Imperial Admiral Yamamoto, deceased Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Japanese Military during World War Two before his death at the hands of the United States.

Along with Japanese literature, the national language class maintained an educational assortment of general writing, calligraphy, and proper grammar. Asuna however did not find the class difficult or interesting due to her parents' support of linguistic education through tutoring and her old private school. The autobiography on the deceased Japanese Admiral was well written and an intriguing read, but the underlying nationalistic views failed to phase Asuna's perception of the novel. She had little interested in Japanese national views.

Asuna bided her time by eating the quick breakfast made up of assorted fruit, a small carton containing fresh coffee, and a sandwich that Sada had made for her. The seated, former SAO Survivor decided to distract herself with a good book on her tablet as she ate her packed breakfast. Overtime, more students and the teacher arrived in class; eventually the late bell broke Asuna from her novel. Asuna's resident classroom had originally been designed as a music room and had a distinctive bleacher-like setup to the seats. Each row of students was propped up higher than the next allowing every student a view of the front of the class, and by extension the teacher could see all his students from below.

Asuna sat in the third row alongside three other girls, however, none were among her close friends. These students were simply mild acquaintances; Asuna would, on occasion, gossip with these students before class, but today, someone else had caught her attention.

A young-looking boy, Chino Teiji, one of the more academically successful students in Asuna's class, was only a mild acquaintance. Asuna had served with the boy back in Sword Art Online on the Frontlines. Teiji once had once been a runner for the Divine Dragon Alliance; he often ran news between the Front and the player population.

Today he didn't look so good, his school uniform was untidy and loosened. His jet black hair was a rat's nest. He had obviously large bags hanging from his eyes as if he had gotten no sleep for several weeks. He looked close to what someone might confuse a zombie. His brown eyes were bloodshot and his grim expression looked like he had taken a tour in Damnation. He was hacking a semi-constant cough, his weak voice came with a puff, light beads of sweat glistened his forehead; he sure didn't look alive. If Asuna was ever to meet the Chino family, she was going to have a serious talk with the parents on their child's apparent neglect. There was no way he could have come to school looking like this without striking a warning alert in someone's mind. It also didn't help that the morning before, he had been looking just fine. He didn't look like he could have marched to school like this, much less get out of bed. He shouldn't be in a classroom right now, he should be in a hospital ward!

He slowly made the trek to his desk, he looked like his breathing was labored and he managed a slight limp. This wasn't the Chino Teiji Asuna had come to know, this wasn't the "Kuku Hunter" he prided himself as in game. He wasn't happy, positive, and bubbly. He was drowsy, mopey, and negative. Teiji, or what kind of husk had replaced him, took a seat at his desk and dropped his book bag with a distinct thump. He laid his head down and seemed to go into hibernation. Asuna looked away, logging her concern for later when class ended where she could ask about his condition.

The teacher was already beginning the class. The aged man didn't seem to have missed on Teiji's failing health as he started his lecture.

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, sensei." The class was quick to reply as they quickly stood then sat back down in his presence.

"Alright, today we are now on Chapter 8 of…" The teacher, Mr. Juba Sumio, was suddenly quiet looking up toward the class, specifically one boy.

Hacking coughs continued to fill the room from behind Asuna, she was quick to turn to face Teiji who was now starting to cough renewing her concern for the former SAO Frontliner.

"Chino-san, are you well?"

"Ye-yes, Juba-sensei…"

The boy was quick to reply but quickly broke down into another angry fit of coughing. One of the older boys in the back rushed to the boy's side. He patted Teiji's back as his coughs got progressively worse in an attempt to cure him of his fit. Teiji began to put his hands to his throat as if he were choking; the other students nearby had surrounded the choking boy in concern. The teacher rushed up the steps as the boy started to make audible cracking noises in his throat. Asuna knocked over her chair in her rush to get a view of the suffocating teenage boy.

"Teiji! Teiji!" A girl was calling his name as he continued to scramble for air. The boy who had tried to cure his coughs now was picking him up and putting him in a Heimlich maneuver to dislodge whatever he was choking on. The teacher had already ran to the intercom to contact the school nurse. The rest of the students watched in group horror. What the Hell was happening?

Teiji continued to choke nonetheless and started to spasm. He was running out of air.

Asuna watched in silent shock as the boy collapsed and started to gasp for air. His spasms were already beginning to slow as he ran out of oxygen. A few students screamed in apparent surprise. Crusher, the older boy performing the Heimlich maneuver, grabbed Teiji's body and put him down flat on the desk knocking away students' property and clearing the table. The teacher was next to Crusher checking for Teiji's pulse. The school nurse could be heard running down the halls outside, coming closer. Everything about this morning was quickly turning into a disaster. What was going on? What was wrong with Teiji?

The students continued to stare in shock at their unconscious classmate as the teacher began to perform CPR.

Asuna swore, it was as if demons had come out to mock her and play with her personal life. The dreams. This accident. Today wasn't Friday the 13th, today wasn't the fourth; it wasn't even Monday.

Somewhere in the distance, ambulance sirens were beginning to get closer. Asuna stared on simply asking herself, "What the hell was happened?"

**…**

**This story is dedicated to the SAO community. When the last time I posted this chapter, it was Easter Sunday.**

**Below there will be a list of OCs and their creators when I use them in my story, a chapter number will note what chapters they are used and introduced.**


	2. Are We Dead

Welcome back to the ruins that are the unfinished product of Enfants Perdu. It's been a while since I've written for Sword Art Online.

I need some honesty from people. Is anyone interested in still reading this story? Is this fandom dead?

If I do rewrite Enfants Perdu, I'm thinking of changing the title to "Wolfland." The other ground rules include a sporadic updating schedule due to college, I barely have time to write stories. Being in a military-related organization does that to you.

The other rule is an end to OC submissions, when I first did it. I made a mistake I think of not understanding what I would be subjecting myself to. I needed characters to populate my world but by asking for characters from the general public, I made the mistake of assuming that the community had the same mindset as I did for my characters. I'm a realism-based author, I take a lot of time to research the reality of my storytelling and I hate when something doesn't play by the rules of reality. I can't suspend my disbelief without being first fed something I could relate to or understand.

I will only take characters that I think are relevant to my plot and are qualified character to exist in my story and can help me tell a better tale.

Think of it this way. **You can send me OC submissions still. PM or Review. I don't care, I'll tell you if I'll take them and I will tell you if I don't need them. I just want to tell a story. OCs are no longer being "accepted" but I will include characters if they fit the world I'm creating and I can involve them – I do character trades with authors that I trust and have proven they can do justice to the characters and world I created.**

Read and Review. I really need this feedback. I've included multiple snippets of my work from my stories to give you an idea of my current writing style. There is a lot, taken from Broken Home, Homestead, and Our Crusade. Hopefully, this sounds like a good deal. Technically, my use of repeat material isn't recommended, but, I'm just trying to gauge my current situation. Thank you all and please do give feedback.

…

**[Autumn 2016]**

**[Are We Dead?]**

**[A Testable Idea]**

…

So we return once again to this point where one story must end and another one begins.

You've all pretty much figured out that my story died somewhere on the assembly line. Enfants Perdu didn't become what I wanted to make it into.

Rather, I transitioned over to the Gate and got in raveled in that mess.

Gate has provided more opportunities to grow as an author but a lot of my independent ideas have not run off from that of Sword Art Online. I find SAO is kind of a slow burn for me, I'm tired of it. I think at least, there is still a small fire in me that wants to write about it though – just in my own way because I don't agree with what this storyline was, or ever was.

So here I am, updating a story that I think is approaching a year or two in age.

I need to know on part from those that are still interested in this story. Do you still want to read this? Even if I update rarely?

…

So, Pointers –

**First, is the Sword Art Online Community dead? Is this fandom still active enough to be interested in something that isn't a self-insertion or a smut story?**

**Second, do all of you still want to read a story about PTSD? About War Games? About the Military and Monsters?**

**Third, do all of you mind reading something that barely gets updated, but, will update in time?**

**Fourth, do all of you mind if I start fresh, by posting to a new story rather than starting off with this story? I don't know when it will come out, but, I find the best way to do this story is to start fresh.**

**Fifth, do you mind reading something similar to my writing style developed in my experience of writing for the Division and Gate, "Broken Home, Homestead," and "Our Crusade?" All three of these stories are my most recent works and I think show my best material yet.**

**I'm giving you all a small snippet of what my writing has become like since this story went off the deep end and didn't return from the abyss.**

…

**[Homestead: "Airsoft"]**

It is a natural apparition that children fall in love with violence and war, it is an age-old Human instinct.

They crave the rush of adrenaline, the physical impact of punches and shoves, and are naturally unrefined in their search to dominate any competition they can find. War is inbred into the Human Condition.

Kids grow up learning about war as the neighborhood tussle or the bully down the street – they might grow to find it when they play backyard games like Cowboys &amp; Indians or playing competitive sports like Rugby or American Football, they might find it in simulating history's finest battles or just a simple rush to the movies. The feeling and adaptation exists within but the condition of seeing true violence, true conflict is alien to children and by far, most civilians.

Experiencing war changes a person's outlook on life – it validates primal beliefs some of us try to negate or forget even exist. Seeing tragedy isn't enough to know the purest form of war, nor is it to be in the thick of sudden tragedy. War can only becoming pure and can only be fully understand when it is experienced over and over again. When it becomes normalcy and fear becomes an addiction of aggression.

Once you have come to know this state of being, your life changes forever and the idea of escaping is never again possible or considered – because war makes us Human. It shows us who we truly are because it tears away any shadow of doubt and removes any shield of morality.

Once you know War, you will never be the same again – you will come to crave it, not in the sense of violence but the powers that come with it.

That feeling of being on the constant verge between life and death, the comradery found with those around you, the loss of self in sensual overload the more primitive state of mind takes control in the face of danger. War is an addiction, and those that fail to recognize it will fail to understand how to serve and help those that have known it.

Ever since finding what war truly was, there are those that have been unable to get enough of it. For some, they have been unable to replicate the certain rush of the battlefield but have attempted to recreate it nonetheless.

In the forests beyond the city lights of Tokyo, shadows were dancing in the shade of great Japanese Oak trees. There were those seeking that particular rush.

For the man of the hour, not having immediate access to the Internet meant an inability to know that Tokyo beyond the trees was now a warzone. Only the rush mattered.

Andrew Blackburn, an officer in the United States Navy, was too busy trying to fight another enemy to check his phone or know that a city away, a war was actually being waged. Distance of any kind had a way of isolating you from society, you are only able to see beyond your horizons.

This officer, Blackburn, and sometimes known as Black, was an unusually experienced individual. An engineer, a politician, a sailor. A warrior. Thirty years old and having experienced more than most people see or feel in their entire lifetimes. Many of those moments might have shortened his lifespan, but for the naval officer, pretending to fight a war could be just as stimulating as being under real gunfire.

Sure, he didn't get the rush and the tunnel vision but that knowledge that he could get hurt and there were people out there that were trying to harm him allowed the normally restrained man to let go of his rational side and simply get lost in the action. He stopped seeing civilians and stopped seeing little white pellets from airsoft guns.

He saw shadows deep in the trees. He saw paths of advancement, potential cover, plentiful hiding spots and effective flanks in practice. The shadows became windows in bombed out buildings. The unseen hostiles became very alive North Korean soldiers.

The naval officer wasn't in Japan anymore, he was a sea away, on the Korean Peninsula fighting a nation that could only be described as the world's largest death cult. It wasn't 2028, it was two years before, 2026. Seoul was a battlefield and a jungle of burnt wood and twisted steel.

Blackburn imagined civilian bodies literally the ground, more so than what had actually been there during the original battle, but still, he saw blood and death. He didn't take a second to mourn as his mind focused on eliminating the enemy.

"Black. I'm out of Thunders."

The naval officer turned to his ally in this fight, a woman his age, though her actual identity was hard to decipher. Sometimes she was his best friend. Sometimes she was his lover. Other times, he forgot truly where he was and he imagine her as a female South Korean UDT that would be obliterated by a North Korean hand grenade. Other times she became a male US Army medic trying his best to save the life of his squad's designated marksman only to be forced to pick up the man's weapon when everyone else had died and when all the infantry had been killed by North Korean artillery fire.

"You mean grenades? How close are the Nork lines?"

"Black. Black. Think – you're playing airsoft. This isn't Korea. Snap out of it."

"What? Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

Lieutenant Athena 'Lindsay' Lin frowned in concern as the man in front of her shook his head out of a day spell.

"You alright?"

"Never been better."

"You don't look that well. That's the first time you've had a daydream about Korea in, like, six months."

"Accident. Just random spell. Let's go get these bastards."

Normally, he wouldn't get caught up in the moment and overwhelmed by memories of war but there were those rare moments where the memories become too vivid and you're reliving them over again.

You never forget war.

Blackburn was leaning against a fallen Oak tree burying halfway into a notable ditch. Athena, his companion and fireteam buddy, was leaning into his side. She wasn't there for herself, she wasn't doing it out of a romantic gesture, though… It was reassurance – a reminder that she was there and with him on the ground.

"We're out of the Thunder B's?" Blackburn asked as he noted that his last pack of simulation weapons were missing.

"Yeah. Used the last one on a greenie, kid didn't even see it land behind him. Was yelling because it hit his ass cheek."

"Ouch."

"Doesn't even begin to describe it."

The two fell into a silence as they waited. Normally, they would have adopted a more pronounced and direct approach to fighting their enemies, especially since the range on simulation weapons like airsoft guns were highly limited in comparison to actual firearms. Because, lives were at stake – the variation of Team Deathmatch they were currently playing was based on a single-life rule and the majority of Blackburn's team had already been eliminated, mostly due to human error and terrible balancing on the referee's part. Then again, it wasn't the guy's fault since he couldn't gauge the ability of a bunch of teenagers and young adults dressed in attire that could only be described between African child-soldiers and Soldiers of Fortune.

Athena tossed away a spent magazine from her customized Sig 552 carbine. The woman was currently dressed in a surplus JGSDF-style camouflage, one of the out of date models. She had wrapped her dark brown hair into a ponytail but failed to hide red highlights. In brighter light, she would have easily given herself away. Without a hat besides a mask and a pair of goggles, she was leaning on risky – a good shot would definitely leave a welt.

Blackburn himself was dressed more appropriately in a Marine MARPAT pattern with a Multicam baseball cap. His gear was a lot heavier and more encompassing that included a plate carrier and an assault pack. He carried an old M4 rifle with a CQBR Rail System.

The naval officer picked up the spent magazine off the ground, "You know this is expensive shit right?"

"At this point, I don't care."

"Whatever, Lindsay."

"Black. Fuck you."

From the shadows of the trees nearby a voice could be heard muttering in broken English, "Stupid Americans."

Athena just shrugged at the whisper from the trees. Blackburn looked up over the log only for a sniper round to glance near his head. He quickly ducked back into cover from the round.

"What do you suggest?" Blackburn looked toward the woman.

"Reposition."

"Alright. You take point?" The male naval officer asked his fellow officer.

"Sure. On my count of three. We leave on the number."

"Okay. I'll cover you." Blackburn said as he tensed and aimed his M4 carbine over the top of the log without sticking out his head. Technically, it was considered dirty to blind fire but as long as Blackburn didn't fire the gun, he was fine.

"One."

Athena switched from leaning against the tree and swapped to a crouching position and readying to move toward a nearby encampment of rocks. From this area, the dirt looked firm enough to be dry – even if the forest was still damp from recent rains.

"Two. And three."

Athena burst from their cover and Blackburn soldiered up to the top of cover and let out a short burst that covered a half-decent arc through the woods. No confirmed kills. A burst of enemy fire erupted with the snuff of a tracer unit, a tool similar to a sound suppressor echoing across the clearing.

"Fuck!" Athena yelled in anger as she slid into the new ditch. From Blackburn's position, he made out her pants sliding into the dirt and came up covered in pure black and brown – it hadn't been dry as it seemed. Someone was going to be covered in mud until they got back to Yokosuka.

A whistle went off just as Blackburn was about to call out to see if she was fine. Out of the shadows, teenagers and young adults began to wander into the clearing that marked the center of the airsoft field.

Blackburn looked to the referee as he glanced down at his watch. "We still got a bit of time left, what's the occasion?"

The man in an orange vest, the ref, replied in a bit of broken English. "Tokyo attack."

Blackburn looked at him in confusion.

"Terrorist…"

"Oh. Thanks…shit. Athena?" Blackburn turned to his partner in crime still cursing, switching to Chinese.

"Nǐ sǐ pì yǎn!"

"Yeah. Your butt is covered in brown crap. We'll take care of it later. Let's get back to the staging area."

"They said a terror attack?" Athena asked as she moved to lean against Blackburn.

"Yeah. Don't know anything until I get back to my phone back at base camp."

"Can you wipe off some of the dirt before we go?"

Andrew just shrugged and wiped off some of the stray mud on her back from sliding in the mud.

"Done." The male officer said.

Athena scrapped off her thighs and the two began to follow the rest of the fighters back along the path back to base camp. For everyone on this airsoft field, their minds were no longer in the game – it was on the potential tragedy waiting for them.

"We need to get in contact with Yokosuka." Athena said as an afterthought.

"Agreed." In a running jog, they both broke off heading out of the darkness of the forest and back into the light of day. Clouds could be made out gathering overhead and blocking out the sun. The world did not seem so cheerful anymore.

…

**[Our Crusade: "West &amp; East I"]**

The sky was sunny and bright. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the deep blue only inspired people to get out of the house and the office and to enjoy their lives. Tokyo City was abuzz with life and at the center of it all were a select few individuals going about their lives.

One of these individuals was a simplistic man with a drilled core and the body of an unbroken soldier. He dressed in an orange tee shirt with an athletic brand and wore some weathered cargo shorts that came just below his kneecaps. He carried his phone in hand, playing away at his mobile games and had no care for the world. In the next hours, he would be seen as a hero and in a matter of minutes, he would be bloodied on the field of battle for the first time in his life.

In another time and another vision, he could have been the main character of this tale but this isn't his story – this is the tale of others, a tale of an army without anyone flag and without any one creed or interest. This is a story of a race of warriors that came from all walks of life and all forms of expression, they are many and all heroes in their own way. They come from many different lands and have different life experiences but from these moments forward, their vision is the same – to seek justice for the lives that were lost on this date which will live in infamy.

The journey begins with a young man marching his way down the wooden path that his family elders had marched in their own youth. He wore the clothes of his elders and he marched like them.

This was Toshiro Kenja, dressed in the ceremonial robes of his ancestors and holding his wood bokken, a kendo training blade, in a resting position under his arm. The son of a somewhat wealthy merchant family dating back to Meiji Restoration, it was tradition for the men of prominent clans to learn the ancient arts of the Japanese people – including the Way of the Warrior, "bushido" though its more extreme tones had been relaxed as modern Japan came to replace the old Empire.

Toshiro's approach was not met with silence, but rather the hard thwacks of wood meeting wood and the echoes of human grunts as fighters dueled it out within the air-conditioned dojo that belonged to Toshiro's family. From the view of the open paper door, Toshiro could make out a family elder training a pair of young, former pupils in the art of Japanese sword techniques. The trio were masters of their craft and their technique and strength were clear as their strikes were fluid and continuous.

To the untrained eye, the sword fight could be described as a dance rather than a battle.

One pupil sliced out with a horizontal slash to force the elder back while the other youth came down with a solid, vertical strike. Both strikes were blocked and absorbed as the elder master blocked the strikes with a slight horizontal clash that came in with an acute angle and another block with the palm to the fashioned hilt.

Joining into the frenzy of flying wood, Toshiro charged the two younger men with animalistic ferocity and a mighty roar that shook the heavens that were the ceiling of the dojo. He swung twice with quick, methodical strikes to the upper abdomen of the adversaries to the Elder and ending the clash with a surprise attack.

The former pupils were quickly pacified as their fellow youngster supported the Elder with a surprise assault. There was no complaints, no murmurs of a sore loser or an unsatisfied warrior but simply the militaristic tradition of four well-trained and versed blade practitioners.

All three former pupils bowed before their elder in respect as the room erupted into happy cheers and applause. The fight's end signified the roar of the torrent audience no longer dammed in silence and allowed to awaken their fan-fared roars.

It may have been their imaginations, but those that had been in the face of conflict had experienced what could only be described as a vivid daydream. Images of dragons, elves, and fantastical beasts filled the heads of the kendo fighters. No shared epiphany occurred but the mysticism of the dream was met with a lingering confusion. What had that been?

Toshiro himself shook his head out of the dream and back into the light of day. He only had seconds to recollect his thoughts as he completed his ceremonial bow before a frail family member rushed into the Dojo from the estate grounds. The man was frantic and in a daze.

"Something is coming this way! Monsters of some kind are killing everyone!" The man spoke as he waved his smartphone through the air in fright.

The room's shared consensus was spoken by the family Elder in a quiet but strong voice of an experienced teacher, "What do you mean?"

The frantic man calmed himself before addressing his blood superior. "A friend of mine was Skyping with me from across town at Ginza before he was struck down! He was murdered! There were dragons and knife-wielding creatures bursting from a large building – it looked like a Roman structure. We must leave at once!"

Without a shade of doubt, Toshiro nodded to the Elder, his sensei, as he shared a silent conversation – the trust in their family was strong; the man of the hour was not lying. He could only have spoken the truth – not when he stood before the family and his Elder. This was a dire situation that had to be addressed immediately.

Toshiro spoke in a commanding voice, "Anyone who wishes to help save lives, go with the news-bearer and help get people out of the area! Everyone else, follow me! I need six volunteers."

The said volunteers quickly fell in line as the group moved to the family arsenal where both historical weapons and the training gear of the family was kept. Years of history lay in the halls of the Dojo's Armory.

Katanas, spears, and sets of samurai robes were drawn from their still saber mounts along the walls.

Sixteen men of varying age and stature would enter the Dojo's armory and sixteen warriors with one cause would step out into the sunlight – ready for battle and war.

They quickly began to make their way out into the streets of Tokyo to meet the enemy that threatened their Keep and Nation.

However, a battle was not decided that day just for them. There were others around the Archipelago that were rushing to the aid of the innocent.

…

**[Our Crusade: "West &amp; East II"]**

Blocks from the grounds upon which Innocence had been slaughtered, a loose formation of oriental-armored men, sixteen in total moved between overturned cars and the corpses of dead or the warm bodies of the dying – all struck down by waves of arrows that could blot out the sky.

They stood just outside or alongside a makeshift barrier built out of numerous light cars of Japanese make. At the center of the barrier, lining from sidewalk to sidewalk, a gap had been created to allow scared civilians to rush beyond the formation. They were fresh from the onslaught coming from Ginza – men, women, and children coming in droves. Most of them already appeared roughed up or bloodied in all shapes and forms.

Some people had notable injuries, others were simply exhausted from an adrenaline rush as they sprinted from the enemy waves.

When the crowds began to shorten out, some men and a few women made an effort to stay behind. If someone, anyone, was going to make a stand against these unknown foes – it was going to be the brave and willing that wished to protect their people and their country.

The heavier built men among the armored entourage quickly filled the gap as the last of the civilians trickled by. Two Japanese cars were completed and suddenly they had an Alamo. Among all the paths through Tokyo, this was the largest intersection and the easiest accessible path to the freeway, a chokepoint to handle – especially against an army without knowledge of the terrain.

The spearmen stood at the front, making up the first defensive ring around the makeshift, car-stacked barrier. The swordsmen stood at their flanks.

The commotion of civilians passed and for a moment there was silence, there was peace. Then the fragile spell was broken and an army of what could only be described as fantastical beasts – mostly pig humanoids and goblins marched within sight of the wall that lined the chokepoint.

The swordsmen stood their ground and tensed as the enemy approached – their boots and hooves and feet clicking as they began their charge.

A long, blood-chortling cry escaped the mouths of the charging enemy but their out-numbered prey remained silent, holding their ground.

The first enemy troops were met with spears to the chests that ripped through thin plate pieces and bare skin and chain-link mesh armor. Those that got around jumped upon the first line of defenders who were forced to slowly back up as the sheer number of enemies overwhelmed them. The swordsmen quickly filled in the gaps and parried the enemy and forcing them to slow down their approach.

There were several barriers of cars that lined the defense. The first wall fell with ease as a lack of skin bags waited for the enemy approach. The second wall was an embattled porcupine as blades slashed and stabbed into the slowing enemy. The defense was made up of five rows of cars, some more complete than others. The enemy and the defenders knew, there would be much ground to cover in the coming minutes.

Brave civilians that managed to stay behind and fight for their home leaped into the fray and drew up the weapons of the dead. Some finding success in battle and others not managing to reach such a purchase as they were slaughtered upon contact. They just didn't have the experience or training to fight an enemy with years of battle experience.

Bodies began to topple on both sides. The dead were left where they fell as the battle fell into full swing.

Toshiro and his sensei, the Elder stood apart from their allies as they fought through the swarm of enemy combatants that attempted to breach their already shattering line.

The enemy humanoids were effectively pacified as an ancient bullhorn roared across the street. The enemy troops slowed their assault and retreated meters away and opened a path through their sea of blades. For a moment, it gave the defenders time to collect their breath when the bullhorn sounded again twice and beyond the sea of monsters, a more human enemy on horseback rushed their security line. A cavalry charge – Roman troops or something of the sort charged along the backs of mighty steeds and challenged the defense that their enemy had constructed.

"Hold!" A shout echoed among the Japanese lines.

The Japanese civilians and the members of Toshiro's family tensed in preparation of the charge. The spearmen drew themselves low and prepared to use their spears as pikes. The swordsmen retreated back to another line as they prepped for the overflow of the enemy formation that would certainly break past.

The horses rushed over the makeshift barriers and their riders managed to hack an unlucky civilian who didn't have the time to retreat. His body fell into a pile of dead nearby before anyone could account for his loss. Toshiro and the Elder were quick to knock over the charging horses with horizontal slashes or cutting through the underbelly of their foes. The heavy armor of the enemy legionaries became a liability to their wearers as their weight made it impossible for them to get up following the harsh impact of falling from their dead horses making them easy targets. Others were knocked unconscious or crushed by their steeds' dead corpses.

The combat bought civilians more time to retreat and it prevented the enemy from advancing for some time. They would hold the line or die to try until a more formidable ally could relieve them of their burden. The question was at what cost? How many more would fall before this battle and slaughter came to a close?

The horde was coming back, humanoids rushing back into the fray and the horse riders stopping to demount and charge their foes on foot. This would be another impossible battle for the books, at least, as long someone managed to survive long enough to retell the tale.

This battle had only started but already countless allies had fallen around Toshiro. How many more lives would be lost this day? He couldn't spend much more time considering the situation. His katana, made from Japanese-steel, clashed with the foil-steel of a Roman-style gladius short sword.

The battle would take more lives in time and it was not nearing its end. Not anytime soon.

…

**["Broken Home: Criminal Activity"]**

"Time to go see the Admiral, LT." The MP stated to Blackburn who only scowled back at the police officer.

The group arrived at a separate office space following an uneventful elevator arrive at the top floor of the PACOM building. On the top of the door, the officer occupying the office was written proud and clear. "Admiral Nathaniel R.D. Lincoln, USSOCOM, United States Navy – Temporary Headquarters."

This was the office of the Special Operations Command Operations Chief, commander of USSOCOM and Blackburn's personal friend and superior officer. He was the man to jumpstart Blackburn's naval career and a father figure for the young man; if anyone could save Blackburn's skin, it would be him.

The FBI agent knocked three solid times on the wooden door before a muffled voice replied back. "Come in."

The agents marched Blackburn into the office space, a spacious office built around a single oak wood desk at its center. There was a large, vertical holographic display on the left side of the room and rows of stacked bookshelves on the right. It wasn't a cramped office but it did appear lived in with a kind of a mix between anarchy and organized chaos. The good Admiral Lincoln wasn't well known for the neat streak that had defined his office in the last two years. The cleaning had been among Blackburn's personal work as a mission planner and sometimes a secretary of sorts for Lincoln since arriving under the Admiral's command in 2020.

The Admiral himself had been pacing before Blackburn's arrival as he turned to face the three men now in his office. Blackburn, the MP, and the FBI agent stood at attention before the SOCOM commander.

There was an awkward tension built into the room that was only reinforced by a half-hearted "At ease," from the Admiral who stared down his subordinate that made Blackburn's skin crawl, it seemed the Admiral wasn't happy.

Seeing Blackburn march into the office guided by FBI and Military Police had made the man clench up. Not in favor of Blackburn however, he wasn't interested in that. He stopped thinking and seemed to make a final decision before putting in the back of his mind. The man had been considering Blackburn's case then. Well, that was just great. Blackburn was fucked.

The young sailor moved to the front of the Admiral's desk. He wasn't going to play the subordinate this time; if he was going down, he was going down swinging. Or, at least, that was the idea. He was about to start the discussion on a single outstretched hand from Lincoln silenced him, Blackburn went rigid.

The older man did not sit and he simply stared at his subordinate officer. "So, this is how it's gonna to be."

"I didn't do it," Blackburn replied quickly, knowing where the accusation was going.

"That will be decided in the military court. I'm appalled this is what you got yourself involved in. You're a United States Naval Officer, you were on your way toward a Captain commission and you go and fuck it up." That point actually hurt, Blackburn had expressed his personal wish to command his own boat and to be a part of the senior naval command structure. He had been working so hard toward it in recent months and now something he had nothing to do with, screwed up his entire career. There was still the possibility that he could turn the tide and get the real person found but for that he needed the help of the Navy's leadership, he needed to make his case clear.

"You don't get it! I didn't do-!" Blackburn was cut off once again by his superior's outstretched hand.

"No. You don't get it. They've already got you – the Bureau has had its eye on you for months. I was informed this morning about the opium you've been smuggling through the Philippines, you think we weren't going to find out?" The Admiral shook his head and took a seat, his eyes refused to leave the Lieutenant. "I don't want to hear any back talk from you; now, you listen. As of today, you're done. You are no longer a commissioned officer in the United States Navy. You are no longer a part of my command. You are no longer under the jurisdiction of the Department of the Navy. You have disgraced the Fleet and you have disgraced me. I brought you onto my Staff because you said you wanted to make the world a better place. You said you want to do good; well, look at how well that turned out. You wiill face the brass and you will face the music."

Blackburn didn't dare reply. When Lincoln made a decision, it was rare if ever that he changed his position. In some circles, a compromise might seem weak, but it is among one of the strongest positions to hold in a conflict. The ability to discuss, learn and negotiate – it's most useful in politics even if most citizens don't seem to understand that. In the military, like a number of other fields where compromise doesn't fit, it helps to be decisive and to refuse to negotiate because it puts you in a place of strength over those that cannot fight back. However, at this time, it was a moment of weakness because it could be the very moment that would decide whether the falsely accused would manage an out.

"I'm disappointed in you Lieutenant. I'm disappointed in you Andrew Blackburn. You've broke every substantial code of our Armed Forces short of treason, you've shamed yourself and you've shamed the Armed Forces. You have been charged with illegal drug trafficking, conduct unbecoming of an officer, wrongful possession of controlled substances with a number of related sub notices, you've breached your code of conduct and you've betrayed my trust in you to do your job as a United States Officer. You will be sent back to the MPs and your property will be confiscated until official termination of your contract. You and your fellow officer will have plenty to discuss in due time. Get the fuck out of my sight."

The Admiral turned to his computer and nodded for the FBI and MP escorts to take Blackburn out of his office. He didn't even look as his subordinate squinted his eyes in anger at his superior. Blackburn saluted the Admiral, did an about-face and marched out of the room, led by the FBI agent from before.

As soon as Blackburn left, Lincoln let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. This had been a tiring week with all the planning and dealing with the fiasco with Blackburn, one he was pretty sure he had fucked up. The Admiral had wanted to let him off easy but he had stumbled and decided to go with the harsh option since it would be the quickest and easiest way to let the kid off and chase him out of the military. The Admiral needed Blackburn out and to create the situation necessary for the future. That kid had a lot of potential; he had made the decision long ago that he would make sure they would be used in a place more appropriate than the Navy.

…

**["Broken Home: The Agents"]**

Before the Captain could make it out and into the sunny hallways of the government building, Lincoln was quickly pulled aside by some Secret Service agents and led to another conference hall in the government building. No words were traded between the guards and the naval officer. At the head of a large table, the Secretary of Homeland Security sat, looking out a window overlooking a grassy green lawn. At the sound of the Secret Service closing the door behind Lincoln as he entered the conference room, the Secretary turned to face Lincoln.

"Captain Lincoln. Thank you for seeing me, sorry about the weird transition from the committee." The older man marched over to Lincoln and briskly shook his hand in mutual respect.

Lincoln didn't really seem to understand the circumstances and was still blinking at the change from the War Room brief to an empty conference room, it was like being in college all over again. The lectures and the constant moving of classrooms. He simply nodded in recognition of the Secretary's greeting. He took a seat next to the Secretary who returned to his chair at the head of the table.

"I'll cut to the chase. Before the President is replaced in the next election, he wants to make a number of promotions. Including yours, a little early congratulation from myself, if you will. For your promotion to Rear Admiral in the coming weeks. I'm assuming you've already been groomed for the job and have been given a wide berth from command duties in Somalia?"

"Yes, sir. I've been on administrative leave for the last week and a half. I was interested in going to see the Olympics with my wife soon but I don't know if I will have the time to go visit Beijing."

"I got a hold of your file. You've got another good two weeks before you're needed back in the office so you got all the time in the world for personal fun, at least if no emergencies arise. When you get back; you remember the SHD offer?"

"Yes, the recruits you mean?" Lincoln nodded at the Secretary with a slow bob as if to convey more than he was willing to state.

"Yeah, I don't expect you to be able to throw in any dossiers anytime soon since you're not of rank but do start considering. It's of some importance for future operations in case of future crisis, for example, today's discussion of Dark Winter."

"Why military anyway? You never mentioned that when we last discussed this over the phone."

"Why Captain? Isn't the answer quite obvious? The military always makes the better survivors." The Secretary grinned wolfishly.

The incoming Admiral just stared at the man in cautious curiosity. He wasn't sure what that meant but he knew what the military recruitment was about. The Strategic Homeland Division, SHD, outlined in the President's emergency Directive, needed effective field agents to meet their mission objectives of protecting society in times of panic. While there wasn't exactly an accurately nice term to describe the job description, the men and women they were seeking were something reminiscent of the Cold War and Big Brother conspiracies.

The Department of Homeland Security, the parent company for SHD, wanted Sleeper Cells; agents that responded to the orders of their government from within their own populations without anyone knowing of their existence. Such a thought in the olden days would have been written off as insane and accounts on par with treason. Now the times were different, the world was a different place. A more desperate place. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures.

"You got any individuals you have in mind? Like a quota or something so I have a good example of who I should be picking?"

The Secretary stopped to give Lincoln's question a thought. The politician lazily traced the letters S, H, and D into the hardwood table spelling out the company acronym as if in a stupor. It was a meaningless act but it helped reflect the importance of the Secretary's request. This agency would have a jurisdiction in unknown territory.

After a bit of time to consider, the Secretary gave his answer, this time frowning at the thought. "This new agency is going into some unknown territory and is covering jurisdictions we have never taken. A few years ago, our actions would have been called out as authoritarian and we would have been out of the White House faster than you could blink. Everyone, not just the President's staff but the majority of the US government. We would have an uprising on our hands because by doing this we are most probably breaking the very laws we promised to follow and uphold as lawmakers and as its defenders. The SHD, outlined by the President, goes against every foundational belief we hold sacred as Americans. It's more or less betrayal, however, it has come to the point that it is necessary and while there could be an argument made that we are overreaching in our duty to execute our oaths of office, there is no written law that prevents us from creating the SHD."

"You're telling me we're committing treason? You know what we're talking about here, right? Establishing sleeper agents in our own population and breaking whatever moral boundary we have had. We crossed a line when the President signed the Directive, but I didn't know it was this bad!"

"Calm down Nathaniel. I feel the same way but we're not living in the nineties, the Soviets have long passed and we don't have a clear threat any longer. Instead of one big one, we got a bunch of small ones capable of doing a lot of damage. You can't even count how many threats exist because we don't know all of them and there are ones we don't even know that exist. You're a Captain, you don't have to sit through the NSC meetings and hear about a new terrorist group popping up out of nowhere. This is the world we live in now. There isn't anything we can do to change it but we can adapt; you don't understand that feeling of everyone being a potential threat. That the common Joe on the street could be the next mass murderer in suburban America. It keeps me up at night Captain and I'm only adapting to the world I live in."

Captain Lincoln just stared at the Secretary in front of him, appalled. He didn't like where this conversation was going but really what was driving him insane was that deep down, he knew that the Secretary was right. The world was a different place and they were now just playing catch-up to the times. The world wasn't a pretty place and it was probably more dangerous than it had ever been. There was nothing the Captain could do about it.

"So…I guess there isn't much to say beyond that. Who would you like me to recruit?" Lincoln said finally recollecting himself.

The Secretary seemed to age a decade from the stress created by sleepless nights and terrorist threats. "We're walking into unknown territory as I said before, we don't exactly know who we need but I can give you an idea of what I personally want. There are a number of recruiters throughout the American government, now including yourself. They all have their own idea of what makes a good public servant as well as a great SHD agent. I am going to give you my version, hopefully, it's the correct idea because I don't want to screw this up because there are so many ways we can get this wrong."

The Secretary sighed to himself as the door behind the pair opened and a Secret Service agent handed the Secretary a warm coffee off the street. The female agent nodded to her superior officer, nodded to the Captain, then quickly walked out.

"See that agent, Captain?" The Secretary pointed to the agent as she disappeared behind the oak doors of the hall.

"Yeah, what about her?"

"She isn't the type of agent I want for the SHD, not by a long shot. I want people capable of autonomy but are capable of knowing right from wrong and will stick within the boundaries of our national laws. We're fighting to preserve our way of life, not inherently change it. These agents, I'm not sure if I should call them that but that's beside the point, need to have exceptional survival skills and be physically adept. They should express moderate leadership skills and be capable of working in teams under a number of work conditions. They need to be truly loyal to the Federal government, to love American Society like no one else, and they must love our traditions like virtues. They need to be the paragon patriots we always want to be but can't be through our office."

"That's it? Kind of seems idealistic, don't you think?" Lincoln asked with a bit of doubt.

"Maybe it is, maybe I'1m wrong. I don't know, it's kind of like voting. You follow the guy that you think has the best values and you just hope he sticks to them," The Secretary of Homeland Security sighed heavily. "This, however, is the most important. They need to be age twenty-one to forty-five. We need them to be young and still capable of serving the country in either the field or in the office. If they are forty-five, we can, at least, get a shelf-life out of them for five or so years which we then retire our people at the age of fifty. Also, they need to have a degree of separation from society."

"Alright, I can see that but what do you mean separation from society?"

"I mean they need to have no ties to the world around them. Nothing that would keep them from being able to do their job in the event of a crisis. I'm willing to accept married men and women and to allow them to have lives outside the office but they need to be able to abandon it in favor of the greater mission of providing order in chaos. They cannot be tied to the lives they once had. Introverted young people are our primary recruitment pool since they provide the best combinations for building field agents, at least, based on the CIA's own recruiting process. They're more malleable to a cause since they're young and impressionable. They are in their peak state of physical and mental fitness, and this generation especially coming out of college are some of the smartest young adults this country has produced, foreign-born or otherwise."

"I may not be able to remember all of that. You want to write that down for me?" Lincoln stated slightly joking but ever more serious. It was a lot of information to take in.

"Don't worry about it. I'll have an encrypted email sent to you from one of my hush-hush servers in the Company. From there, you can communicate with just about any of the major leaders in the Fed. Myself, DoD Secretary, SHD Command, the CIA director, the Joint Chiefs, Secretary of State, the President… Don't go overboard, only use it in times of need or when you have some questions. Such as background information on potential recruits, we'll pull their medical and Social Security dossiers for you." The Secretary finished his statement and stood up. Captain Lincoln quickly followed, realizing that this conversation was over with.

"It's been good seeing you, Captain, good luck on your promotion to Rear Admiral," The Secretary shook Lincoln's hand. "And remember, this conversation never happened. We've never met beyond intelligence meetings."

Lincoln saluted silently in respect of the older man. The Secretary saluted back lazily and motioned the Captain out the door.

From here on out, Captain Nathaniel Lincoln was an informant for the Strategic Homeland Division. Another secret as a military man, he would have to take to the grave.

Lincoln whispered to himself as he stepped out into the early morning sun. "Godspeed."

…


End file.
